Haunted
by Jemmz
Summary: He forever hears those same 5 words, over and over again. But who is behind it? Who has been haunting him? For a challenge on LJ: Future!Charlie.


-1Haunted.

**Title: **Haunted**  
Rating: **K

**Characters: **Jack/Charlie

**Summary: **He forever hears those same 5 words, over and over again. But who is behind it? Who has been haunting him? **  
**

_You have to go back._

The words haunted him, the same words that had been haunting him these past few months. He couldn't go to sleep at night, he couldn't go outside during the day because he would keep hearing that same sentence dripping in his ears. Over and over. _You have to go back. You have to. _And then there was the person behind those lingering words…

He shifted in his bed uncomfortably, eyes wide and red, mouth dry, head pounding. He lay alone, his mind itching, echoing those same five words.

_You have to go back._

He turned onto his other side, wiping the sweat from his tired face.

_They need you._

He brought his knees up to his chest.

_Don't you trust me Jack?_

Jack blinked, covering his ears and shaking so violently he couldn't keep his vision straight. The room was a blurred mess, his apartment suffocated in clothes and empty beer bottles. Why was this happening now?

Jack lurched forward in alarm, his head a tangled mess and his brows dotted with sweat. He couldn't sleep. Not now. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't go out. Couldn't think. Could hardly breathe properly. The strange voices remained, destroying every ounce of sanity he had left in him.

Jack shivered and arose from his bed in to the dimly lit room he called his living room. He looked around him, shuddering as the voices seemed to get louder and louder.

"What do you want?" Jack mumbled drowsily. Did it want his blood? His tears? He could cry and bleed for eternity and it wouldn't be enough. No, nothing was ever enough for this, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" screamed Jack, not being able to bear it anymore as the room spun and twisted around him.

_They need you, you have to go back. You have to go back. Go back! _

His world becoming a sickly, circling mess. He didn't want to live in it anymore. He had no strength to fight anymore. Did he have answers these strange ghostly voices wanted to know? If he promised these answers, would these supernatural forces leave him be? What could it possibly want from him? Jack squeezed his eyes shut as he lost all balance and fell to the floor, crushing his knees against the hard floorboards as he yelled for relief. He just wanted silence. He pleaded for silence. He only wanted quiet.

Mercifully, the voices halted as if they had answered Jack's pleas for peace. And all seemed normal again. Jack cautiously opened his eyes. What he didn't expect was to see a familiar young man standing directly in front of him, his face cleanly shaven, his hair cut short. He looked so different, yet he was the same.

Jack's eyes widened in disbelief and a look of horror and surprise reanimated his features, "Charlie?"

"Hello, Jack."

His voice was calm, simple, and very, very solemn. He was here and he had spoken his name. His voice no longer lingered alone in his mind. He had appeared right in front of Jack. Yet Jack could not accept that Charlie Pace was here. And that was because Charlie Pace was dead. Wasn't he?

Of course he was. Desmond had returned with the news. Claire and Hurley had broken down in heartfelt tears at his loss. Jack had stood there while Hurley made his speech to honour his friend and trust his message about the damn freighter! Charlie was dead! He refused to believe he had dreamed up the whole thing! Just because his life had become a terrible turmoil of darkness and depression didn't mean that he was losing his mind! And yet, he also refused to believe that he was creating this-Charlie's presence-out of his own crazed imagination. So what was he doing here? Was he dead or alive? Was he real or fake? Jack contemplated whether it was a side effect of the drugs he had taken. Maybe he had taken too much. Or not enough, he really wasn't sure anymore.

"I'm real, if that's what you're wondering," Charlie spoke again, stepping closer to the confused older man that was sitting bewildered on the untidy floor, "Real as the mess you've gotten yourself in to," he added eyeing the shambled flat, furniture seemed to be drowning in a sea of rubbish and jumbled old clothes that had been tossed to the side in an act of laziness.

Jack held out a hand as if stopping the other man from coming closer and grabbed a beer bottle with the other one, smashing the end and holding it up as a weapon, "Now you stay away from me!" he warned, "Is this your idea of some sick joke?" he demanded with disgust. That must be what it was. Someone was playing some repulsive prank on him. Jack was sick of being played for a fool. This was taking it too far.

Charlie seemed undeterred, nor afraid of Jack's threatening behaviour. He even rolled his eyes and let out a small sigh, "Jack, it's me. It's Charlie."

"Stop it! Just stop it! Charlie's dead! You're not him! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!" Jack erupted in to a river of sobs, lowering the broken glass, "Why are you doing this?" he blubbered, "What do you want from me? I have nothing left to give!"

"You know what I want, Jack. You know it's the right thing to do." Charlie tilted his head slightly but seemed to show little concern.

"What are you talking about?" sniffed Jack, vigorously swiping at his cheeks and eyes so both turned an unnatural pink.

"I'm talking about the people you left on the island."

Jack stared, breathing slowly as he examined the man in front of him.

Charlie was inpatient at Jack's hesitance to co-operate, "Want me to name some names? Claire, Locke, Sawyer-"

"My God," Jack interrupted, his eyes glued to him, "You really _are_ Charlie."

"Finally, you cotton on," Charlie retorted with a small frown.

Jack wasn't sure where to begin, "What….I mean, how…"

Charlie stared at the man he once looked up to. Now, a helpless mess huddled on the ground. He could barely look after himself now, let alone a whole group of people. It disturbed him how much he reminded Charlie of his past-self. But now things were different. Now things were much more complicated.

There was a beat or two of silence as Jack gathered his racing thoughts, "What…what happened to you…Where _were_ you?"

Charlie sighed deeply. He had been expecting this. He knew it would be hard to explain, "I went to a place only inhabitants of the island go, Jack," he paused, "When they die of course. You wouldn't understand."

Jack sat up a little, intrigued, his mouth open in amazement. This was nothing short of a miracle. Charlie had died, yet he was here! Talking to Jack, safe and well.

"Do you know why I died, Jack?" Charlie asked, not really awaiting an answer, "I died to rescue all of you. Not just six of you."

Jack felt overridden with guilt. His stomach turned. He felt his throat ache and his head burn, "I'm so sorry."

Charlie managed a smile and, for a moment, Jack felt like he was back on the island again, in the past. When he and Charlie were friends. Before he died, "Don't be sorry. Nothing would have stopped me. It was fate, right?"

Jack scorned, turning his face away. Charlie chewed his lip, noting Jack's reaction.

"Not a man of fate, are you Jack?"

"Never was, no."

"Then you think I died for nothing?" Charlie questioned, switching the position of his feet.

Jack wrinkled his nose, "If you died for fate, yes," he answered sincerely, "But you didn't die for nothing, Charlie!" he insisted, getting to his feet whilst kicking empty plates and beer bottles out the way, "Take Sun for example! I heard she had her baby! She's safe and well!" he insisted with a small smile.

"Jin's dead," Charlie snapped, "Sun's left to bring up Ji Yeon on her own. How do you think I feel about that?"

Jack grimaced, chastised, "Well then what about Aaron? He's off the island! He's in safe hands with-"

"Kate?" Charlie scorned , crossing his arms across his chest. Jack couldn't remember Charlie being this intimidating. But then again, Charlie never used to always be dead.

Jack stared in dismay. No matter how he tried, he couldn't make Charlie feel better about the situation. And of course, that made him feel horribly guilty.

"Face it, Jack. How has this helped anyone? You're a mess, Kate has Claire's baby, Sun's left to raise her daughter by herself, Hurley's in a bloody mental institution again…It's not meant to be this way!"

Jack felt the tears welling up again as Charlie tried to contain his frustration.

"I promised them I wouldn't get angry."

Jack paused at this. "_Them?_"

Charlie realised he had just made a mistake, "I have to go," he added, stepping away from his old friend.

"No!" Jack begged, following Charlie as he moved.

"Just do the right thing, Jack! Be the hero again!" Charlie told him.

"Don't go!" Jack lurched forward, grabbing Charlie's shoulders in a desperate panic. His grip was firm as he held Charlie's arms. All he could do was stare at the younger man in disbelief.

Charlie glanced back up at him as if he should have known better, "Told you."

"You…you feel so real," Jack whispered as if he had thought Charlie to be some lifeless spirit, here to haunt him like every other ghost he had thought to be fictional.

Charlie grit his teeth as if he were mildly offended by this, "I am real! I'm not just a soul, Jack. Did you ever go back down to the Looking Glass to see if my body was still there?"

Jack felt his brain firing with confusion. He barley had time to figure out what Charlie's words meant before he clasped his burning head in unbearable pain. He then realised he had let go of him and Charlie had made a very quick and quiet escape. He had gone again. Disappeared and returned to wherever he came from.

Then, left in the clear space of darkness in Jack's shambled apartment, were the echoes of those same significant and persistent words:

_You Have To Go Back. _

And Jack knew what he had to do.

_End_


End file.
